<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I've Been Waiting For You by MsCFH</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28829106">I've Been Waiting For You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsCFH/pseuds/MsCFH'>MsCFH</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Family Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:48:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,307</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28829106</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsCFH/pseuds/MsCFH</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All has settled in the Stark-Tyrell household.<br/>Margaery and Sansa have been happily married for over a year, Catie and Sofia are staying away from any major shenanigans.<br/>But fresh chaos is on the rise when Margaery and Sansa decide to expand their family.</p><p>Sequel to <a href="Sequel%20to%20My%20Love,%20My%20Life."><em>My Love, My Life</em></a>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I've Been Waiting For You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sticking with ABBA songs for title inspiration in this universe. </p><p>A big thank you to twentyfivepercent for beta-ing this!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Week 1</strong>
</p><p>There was an irrevocable order in how the Stark-Tyrell household started into their mornings.</p><p>Margaery was usually the first one up and about, sat for almost an hour in the dim light, sipping at a coffee, before Catie trotted in. Sansa and Sofia were generally the last to wake up and join them. None of them were particular talkative in their mornings, making it all a comfortably quiet affair. </p><p>For breakfast they limited themselves to whatever each of them acquired from the fridge and pantry. Big meals in the morning were the exception for weekends or other special occasions.</p><p>The absolute exception was for Margaery to be the one cooking them breakfast like she was on this morning.</p><p>Sofia narrowed sleepy eyes as she trotted into the kitchen, and sunk into her spot at the round table, observing her mother sceptically. She glanced at her sister sitting opposite to her.</p><p>“Why is she cooking?”</p><p>Catie shrugged, only glancing up from her book towards Margaery. “I found her like this.”</p><p>“Does mom know about this?” Sofia poured herself a glass of orange juice, not leaving her mother out of her sight. With another thought she sat up straight, alertness in her face. “Mom is okay, isn’t she?”</p><p>“Sansa is fine,” Margaery declared, setting a plate with steaming pancakes in the centre of the table, unappreciative of the dubious manner her daughters eyed it. “I took the day off and I thought I’d treat us all to a nice wholesome breakfast.”</p><p>“You took the day off?” Sofia gaped at her. “Voluntarily?”</p><p>Margaery smiled mildly when going back behind the kitchen counter. Undoubtedly, her taking a day off in the middle of the week was an unknown occurrence, and truth be told, she regretted letting Sansa talk her into it already.</p><p>“I had some overtime to reduce.” She cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl and shot the two girls a pointed look over her shoulder. “Eat before it gets cold. There is more coming.”</p><p>The girls' reluctant trust in her cooking skills eased a little with the first few bites they took.</p><p>“These are good,” Catie noted, her tone suggesting that she was immensely surprised.</p><p>“They are,” Sofia agreed, equally irritated.</p><p>“I am able to cook,” Margaery defended. “You two make it sound like I never cooked before.”</p><p>“I don’t know if I’d count pouring boiling water onto Ramen as cooking,” Sansa remarked from the doorway, taking in the scene before her with a smile.</p><p>Her wife snacked on a piece of pancake from Sofia’s plate and nodded in approval as she made her way over to where Margaery set a fresh pan onto the stove.</p><p>“I’m impressed,” Sansa assessed and wrapped her arms around her from behind.</p><p>“Glad I can still impress you,” Margaery returned, smiling as a kiss was pressed to her cheek. “Good morning.”</p><p>“Good morning.” Sansa nuzzled their cheeks together. “You had me worried for a second when you weren’t in bed.”</p><p>“I always get up before you do.”</p><p>Sansa hummed quietly as her lips grazed over her neck. “Still the kitchen is the last place where I would have expected to find you.” She settled her right hand over Margaery’s stomach and whispered only loud enough for her wife to hear, “Nesting already?”</p><p>Margaery sunk back against her, her own hand joining that of Sansa over her stomach. “More like trying to keep myself from going up the wall.”</p><p>Yes, she definitely regretted taking the day off.</p><p>It had been the advice of their doctor. A day of rest, avoiding stress after the embryo transfer.</p><p>The only problem was that nothing stressed Margaery more than forced rest. Sitting at home all day wondering what if her inability to not stress would cause things to go wrong, had to be as counterproductive as it could be. Hence her opting for distracting activities.</p><p>“It will all be okay,” Sansa spoke into her ear, rubbing her hand over her stomach. “You’ll see.”</p><p>Margaery managed a small smile.</p><p>She wanted her to be right. She wanted this so much.</p><p>Sansa’s baby.</p><p>Alone the thought let her heart flutter.</p><p><em>Their</em> baby.</p><p>But the fact remained that they had no way of knowing if things would be okay.</p><p>Sansa was not to deter from her positivity, but Margaery was a lot more cautious in her own optimism. Even if her HCG levels are where they should be two weeks from now, nothing was safe in the first trimester.</p><p>Margaery shot a quick look over her shoulder where the girls' silence suggested they tried to hear what they were saying.</p><p>They had not told the girls about their try at another baby. And while that involved more lying and half-truths than either of them appreciated in raising their daughters, Margaery was still set that it was for the best. The whole IVF procedure was stressful enough without two noisy pre-teens being involved, voicing opinions and asking questions. Not to mention the possibility that something could go wrong.</p><p>She cleared her throat and continued deliberately louder. “With how ungrateful our daughters are being, it will be a while before you find me in the kitchen again.”</p><p>Peeling herself away, Sansa shot an amused look towards the kitchen table, before focusing back to her with the most loving and comforting eyes. “That’s their loss. I for one have complete faith in you.” </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Week 6</strong>
</p><p>Margaery pushed the food from one end of her plate to the other. For the entire duration of dinner she had not managed more than a few bites of her potatoes and the longer she sat there, the more her stomach rebelled also against those.</p><p>For the past three weeks she had been feeling nauseous like never before in her life.</p><p>When she had been pregnant with Sofia, she had suffered from morning sickness too, but not like this. She woke in the morning feeling nauseous, was left useless by feeling sick during her days and fell asleep still feeling sick. A week ago Sansa had brought her to the ER because she had not even been able to keep fluids down.</p><p>That their doctor told them that strong nausea was an indicator for strong HCG levels, which suggested a strong pregnancy, served only as a small comfort.</p><p>She caught Sansa’s eyes on her and sent her an apologetic smile.</p><p>Sansa had asked her what she wanted for dinner and she really had been in the mood for chicken, only seeing the meat in front of her now, the smell of it lingering in the air sent one wave of nausea after the next through her.</p><p>“Is everything okay?” Catie asked from Margaery’s left. “You have hardly eaten anything.”</p><p>“All good,” she promised in a light tone and forced a smile. “I’m just not very hungry.”</p><p>Sofia’s attention was on her as well and Margaery silently cursed the girls’ attentiveness.</p><p>“It’s the cilantro isn’t it?” Sansa cut in, with a remorseful smile. “I overdid it.”</p><p>Would she have not fought with how miserable she felt, she would have been impressed with Sansa’s smooth lie. But as it was she just waved her off, every single word to get out a struggle. “Maybe-“ she swallowed a bit of bile down, “a little.”</p><p>From her right Sofia was watching the exchange with alert eyes, she had abandoned her own chicken wings. Margaery’s stomach did another turn seeing the half-eaten bits on her plate. Without thinking she went up on wobbly feet and as casually as possible went to get herself a glass of water from the sink, trying to breath in some of the fresh air that streamed in through the open window.</p><p>“Mama?” Sofia observed her closely. “Is everything okay?”</p><p>Margaery had her fingers tightly wrapped around the edge of the countertop and nodded.</p><p>The fresh air helped a little but not as much as she had hoped it would.</p><p>When her eyes fell on the dish in which Sansa had cooked the chicken, saw the fat swimming on the surface, and a whiff of it reached her nose she was at the end of her line. Her stomach contracted and she made it as far as the kitchen sink before gagging up the small amounts of food she had eaten.  </p><p>Sansa was with her only a moment later, a hand softly trailing over her back, handing her a paper towel. Margaery only straightened her posture when she was sure it was the last of it, settled into Sansa’s side and closed her eyes.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she mumbled into the paper towel pressed against her lips.</p><p>“Maybe you should lie down,” Sansa suggested, still rubbing her back.</p><p>Margaery shook her head. “It’s better now.” It always was afterwards. For a good fifteen minutes, but still.</p><p>Her eyes landed on their daughters observing them. Her instinct to make up an excuse about a stomach bug going around at work, died on her lips with one look into their faces. They knew something was up.</p><p>“You know, we aren’t little kids anymore,” Catie told them.</p><p>“Yes,” Sofia agreed, an undeniable quiver in her voice. “You don’t have to protect us.”</p><p>Margaery freed herself from Sansa’s hold, went back to the dinner table and held on to the back of a chair, looking between their daughters. “Protect you?”</p><p>Sansa was not far behind, a comforting hand on the small of Margaery’s back; in front of them Catie crossed her arms and Sofia lowered increasingly glassy eyes.</p><p>“It’s not the first time you’re not feeling good,” Catie elaborated, she sounded stubborn, like she was  fighting to keep her voice firm at all costs. “You have hardly eaten in the last weeks, you’re tired all the time and--”   </p><p>Now Sofia cut in hastily. “Myke’s mom said she saw you at the hospital.” Her chin trembled a little but she tried to stay as composed as her sister. “Several times.”</p><p>Sansa raised a hand. “Girls—"</p><p>“I saw the needle marks on your arms,” Sofia continued, her eyes trained on Margaery, tears on the verge of spilling.  </p><p>“Oh sweetheart.”</p><p>Catie’s hand reached out for that of Sofia and she shot her a quick comforting look. “We looked it up online. And it says that it can be side effects from various diseases or therapies. If there is something wrong—”</p><p>“There is nothing wrong.” Margaery could not stand to listen to the line of thinking their daughters had built for themselves there a moment longer. She sat down and held both her hands out for them to take, which they did, with crushing force. “I am not sick.”</p><p>“But you aren’t well,” Sofia argued, both her hands twisting tightly around Margaery’s right.</p><p>Margaery shared a look with Sansa, caught her small smile and the nod, and thus turned back to the two girls. “It’s true. I have not been feeling well. But not because I am sick.” She made a short pause, had hoped to have more time to mentally prepare herself for this moment, but here she was. “I’m not well because… I’m pregnant.”</p><p>A long silence followed as she watched understanding slowly blossom on the girls’ faces. The hands holding onto hers did not let up and the concern in their eyes had not entirely disappeared either.</p><p>“We didn’t tell you, because it’s still fairly early,” Sansa helped, a hand on Margaery’s shoulder, half to comfort her, half to ease her own nerves.</p><p>They were both anxious about their daughter’s reactions. As a family, they had made all their major decisions together, had the girls involved in everything. From where they would live, to what house they would buy, had even given them considerable input in the planning of their wedding. This decision was the first they had made between themselves only.</p><p>“Aren’t you too old to be pregnant?” Catie blurted out.</p><p>Sansa barely held back a chuckle, as Margaery fought to not be completely appalled by the question.</p><p>Catie looked between her mothers and shrugged. “No offense.”</p><p>“Some taken,” Margaery breathed out but smiled nevertheless. “I might not be at the prime of my fertility, but I’m also a good while away from menopause.”</p><p>“Obviously,” Sansa added, two hands on her wife’s shoulders.</p><p>That had not been bad as a first reaction. No tantrums. No strongly voiced objections. They had reacted more strongly when they had changed their brand of bread without consulting them.</p><p>“So, we’re getting a baby. A new sister or brother.” The spark in Sofia’s eyes let both of them let out a breath in relief. “For real?”</p><p>Margaery nodded, while Sansa fished her phone from her pocket and presented them with the ultrasound picture taken the previous week. There was not a whole lot to see yet. A small white blob on a dark surface. Still the girls studied the picture intensely, looked at it from all angles, zoomed in and out.</p><p>Catie tore her eyes away first, peered up. “When are you due?”</p><p>“End of November,” Margaery answered.</p><p>“And how did you…?” Sofia looked between her mothers, ever so uncommonly at loss for words. “I mean, obviously you couldn’t just, like, the normal way.”</p><p>“Have you ever heard the term IVF?”</p><p>Sofia shook her head, while Catie nodded.</p><p>“What it means is that you take an egg cell and fertilise it outside of the womb,” Margaery explained slowly, trying to determine how much her daughters understood of the process. “And then, after a little while, the fertilised egg is transferred into the womb.”</p><p>Sofia frowned. “That seems complicated.”</p><p>“It kind of is,” Sansa acknowledged.</p><p>“Couldn’t you have just gone with a sperm donor?” Catie, as per usual, was not shy to call things by their name.</p><p>Sansa shook her head a little at their daughter’s extensive knowledge of the facts of life -or what she presumed it to be- but still smiled. “We could have, yes. But we, well, you see, it was important to us that all of us would have a connection to the baby.”</p><p>“Meaning what exactly?” Catie probed on. She furrowed her brows. “Who <em>did</em> you use as a donor?”</p><p>Margaery covered the hand of Sansa that was still resting on her shoulder, signified silently that she would go on. “Meaning that Sansa gave the egg. And as for the donor-“ her eyes trailed to Sofia, “the baby will have the same biological father as you do.”</p><p>It was true, they had gone the complicated way. A simple insemination would have been not only easier but also a great deal less expensive. But the longer they had talked about it beforehand, the more the image of a child that was a mix out of both their girls had solidified in their minds, until it had sifted out as the only right way to go for them. Their way to do this.</p><p>“So, the baby will be related to mom, Catie and me, but not to you?”</p><p>Margaery smiled softly and set a hand over her stomach. “I’ll be having it inside of me for the next nine months. That is as close as it can get.” She held her hands out again for the girls to take. “Besides, if this family is proof of anything than that genetics don’t matter in loving someone.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Week 10<br/></strong>
</p><p>Sansa placed her hand over Margaery’s as she was about to undo her seatbelt, halted her in her attempt to get out of the car with a short pointed look before turning to the girls on the backseat.</p><p>She fished two receipts from the front centre console and held one out to each girl. “You - post office,“ she ordered to Sofia and then to Catie, “And you – dry cleaners.”</p><p>The way the girls lounged around in their seats showed that she’d caught them by surprise and that they had had no true intention to get out of the car.</p><p>“Eh, it’s raining?” Catie said with drawn up eyebrows.</p><p>“Exactly.” Sansa tilted her head. “You won’t make your pregnant mother go out in the rain, will you?”</p><p>“You’re not pregnant,” Sofia mumbled back, but still unclasped her seatbelt.</p><p>The murmured complaints and accusing looks continued steadily until both of them were out of the car, the doors slammed shut with a little too much force behind them.</p><p>Margaery smiled. “You know they’ll be milking this for the rest of the week, right? Being sent out in the pouring rain.”</p><p>Setting a hand on top of her wife’s leg, Sansa shrugged. “They’ll survive.” She arched her head to meet eyes that had lowered again. “I felt like, maybe you needed a moment.”  </p><p>The smile on Margaery’s face stayed firmly in place when she looked back up. “What makes you say that?”</p><p>Sansa suppressed a sigh. Over the years, she had become an expert in reading her wife’s body language. She was as fluent in it as in old High Valyrian, better even. Margaery never needed to say much for Sansa to understand how she felt in a particular moment.</p><p>And right now, the way she sat in her passenger seat with her hands clasped between her thighs and her entire body rigid indicated that she was anxious. Even when she had kept her tone light in talking with the girls and smiled contentedly, something was simmering beneath the surface. And Sansa had a rather good idea what that was.</p><p>“Frankly because you’re smiling like a maniac in a psycho thriller just before they snap.”</p><p>Almost comically Margaery’s smile grew yet a bit broader and more rigid.</p><p>Sansa freed one of her Margaery’s hands from where she had the clamped between her legs and gave it a comforting squeeze. “That was some big news just now. And while I loved having the girls with us today, I feel like we did not have a chance to process the news as we would have without them.”</p><p>They had taken their daughters along to their second ultrasound and everything had been great, like straight out of your most cheesy family movie. Margaery and Sansa all smiles, the girls giddy with excitement of seeing the baby for the first time, the ultrasound technician patient in answering countless questions being thrown her way.</p><p>And then the woman had paused. Tilted her head in looking at the screen and looked back at them with a secretive, a I-know-something-you-don’t smile.</p><p>Two heartbeats, she had elaborated a moment later and pointed out two flickering spots on the flat screen.</p><p>Two babies.</p><p>The enthusiastic gushing of both Catie and Sofia had drowned out everything afterwards, and that had continued until just now. For the whole drive, Sofia had been going on and on about how they could change the layout of the nursery for two babies, while Catie had read facts about twin pregnancies from Wikipedia articles out loud.</p><p>It had robbed Sansa of a chance to wrap her head around it; going by the way Margaery’s hand tightened into hers now, she was a step further in her own processing.</p><p>“So,” Sansa breathed. “Twins.”</p><p>At last Margaery’s smile wavered, but only for a moment. “Yes.”</p><p>“How do you feel about it?” Sansa asked gently.</p><p>Margaery kept her eyes trained on their joined hands. “How do <em>you</em> feel about it?”</p><p>Sansa leaned her head against the headrest, brushed her thumb along the length of Margaery’s. She took a deep breath. “It’s … I mean, it’s great. For sure. We are getting two babies.” The smile that followed her words had to come close to Margaery’s in tightness.</p><p>“It is,” Margaery agreed, her hold growing painfully tight. “We weren’t sure we could have one and now we’re getting two.”</p><p>Sansa felt silly for being so taken by surprise by it and she wondered if her wife did too. It wasn’t like they had not known that IVF increased chances for a multiple pregnancy -they did have three embryos implanted- only given their age they had been told that it was unlikely.</p><p>Then again, they had also been told not to be too optimistic that a first try would be successful.</p><p>And here they were. Successful on their first try. With twins.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>Twins.</p><p>Margaery’s smile wavering the tiniest bit gave her an odd comfort. “We didn’t plan for two.”</p><p>“No. We didn’t.” Margaery leaned back and stared at the raindrops falling on the windscreen. Then she drew a shaky breath and smiled once more, a little more genuine this time. “But what did we ever plan for?”</p><p>That was just it though. This time they had wanted to do better, than things just happening to them. Plan things through, make well educated decisions.</p><p>“I’m scared,” Margaery confessed into the silence and at last met Sansa’s eyes. “I’m happy. Incredibly so. But I’m scared just as much.”</p><p>Sansa brought their joined hands to her lips and pressed a kiss to Margaery’s. She felt unspeakably reassured by the admission. “I am too.”</p><p>“We’ll be okay, right?” Margaery's voice was quiet.</p><p>The underlying implication was crystal clear.</p><p>Having one baby had been enough to uproot everything, make their whole lives a great deal more complicated, but that was something they had considered, they had planned for. Now being faced with having two babies… that was a whole other challenge.</p><p>One they had miserably failed at before.</p><p>They had lost themselves before in the struggle that raising two little children was. It had overwhelmed them. They had tried and they had failed.</p><p>What if it overwhelmed them again? What if it became too much?</p><p>Ignoring her nagging fear, Sansa leaned over the console and met Margaery in a reassuring kiss. “Of course we will.” She paused and set another peck against her wife’s lips. “It’ll be messy, but it will be a happy mess.”</p><p>They were in a different place now. They were not jumping into this barely knowing each other. They were stable. As a family, as a couple, in their careers. They would manage – and come out stronger on the other side.</p><p>There was a soft sparkle of tears in Margaery’s eyes. She nodded eagerly, wanted to believe her with all her heart and cupped another hand around Sansa’s. “I love you.”</p><p>Sansa pecked her lips one more time. “I love you.”</p><p>They pulled apart when the backdoor opened, and Sofia flung herself back into the seat with a dramatic sigh.</p><p>“Good thing you are all warm and comfortable in here, being all disgusting. You know it borders on child abuse sending us out there in this weather?”</p><p>A more relaxed version of her previous content smile returned to Margaery as she turned around and accepted the registered letter held out to her. “We are eternally grateful for your grand sacrifices,” she said dryly.</p><p>Sofia pursed her lips. “Enough to reconsider the diving lessons?”</p><p>“Not quite that grateful,” Sansa interjected promptly.</p><p>“You guys suck.”</p><p>“Yeah, you do,” Catie’s head poked between the two front seats and she held the dry cleaners receipt out to Sansa. “They said to come back tomorrow. You only dropped it off yesterday.” With crossed arms she fell back into her seat. “Where is your head, mom?”</p><p>Sansa opened her mouth for a chiding comment about her daughter’s tone, but Sofia was faster.</p><p>“Mama is supposed to be the one with the pregnancy brain.”</p><p>“Careful,” Margaery warned, raising a finger at the two girls, her tone still playful, but serious enough for the girls to know to not take it further. “There will come a time when you will have forgotten where you put something around the house.”</p><p>Sansa shot her wife a smile, before bestowing their daughters with a strict look. “Exactly. Don’t bite the hand that retrieves stuff that you have forgotten about on a daily basis.”</p><p>Sofia crossed her arms, and looked out the window, a second later she reconsidered her silence. “You know, just before I was thinking that the babies will be lucky to have each other, like Catie and I do? But now I think it’s essential. One kid alone couldn’t handle you two ganging up on it.”</p><p>The words were spoken in spite and prepubescent sulking, and would have annoyed her any other day, but what they did now was ease the concerns and fears that had been swirling around her head the tiniest bit.</p><p>When Margaery reached for her hand again and looked at her, she understood it to have the same effect on her.</p><p>They came in pairs in this family. Margaery and her. Sofia and Catie. And now the twins.</p><p>Yes, they would be okay.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Week 15</strong>
</p><p>Sansa woke with the warmth of her wife’s body cuddling up to her beneath the sheets. An arm wrapped around her middle and Margaery’s front pressed flush against her side.</p><p>“Good morning, gorgeous.”</p><p>“Good morning.” Sansa’s initial smile that came with hot breath tickling her ear disappeared in a crinkling of her nose when her hand moved over Margaery’s back and found her top sticking to damp skin. “Why are you all sweaty?”</p><p>Unbothered by her wife’s irritation Margaery met her lips in a long kiss. “I went on a run.”</p><p>Blinking her eyes open, Sansa glanced at the nightstand clock. “Already?”</p><p>It was barely 6:30. Margaery was normally an early riser, but the last weeks had left her permanently tired, hardly able to crawl out of bed before seven, and even then, on some days it had been a harder struggle than with Sofia -the declared long sleeper of the family.</p><p>A little huff of surprise left Sansa when suddenly Margaery was on top of her, straddling her hips and leaving small kisses along her neck.</p><p>Sansa hands wandered along Margaery’s waistline, her thumbs brushing over the still discreet, but each day a little more prominent curve of her belly. “Your second trimester energy boost kicking in?”</p><p>A smirk was shot back at her and lips wandered lower to suck at her collarbone. “Among other things.”</p><p>Sansa closed her eyes and sighed at hands squeezing her breasts. “May the Gods have mercy on us.”</p><p>Margaery’s libido hyped on pregnancy hormones had been something else the first time around, but now with twice the amount coursing through her system… to be honest Sansa had no idea what to expect, but she was not unintrigued.</p><p>“Your Gods can’t help you now,” Margaery hummed and fingers tugged on the collar of Sansa’s strappy top, did not let up until she had it down below her breasts, and lips searched for more contact. “You wouldn’t deny your pregnant wife any of her-“ a tongue swirled around her nipple, “-cravings. Would you?”</p><p>Sansa squirmed when a hot mouth closed around her breast and teeth came into play in the most delicious manner. Her fingers disappeared in lightly damp curls. “I wouldn’t dare.” Only the last remaining spark of her sense of responsibility had her blink her eyes open and glance back up at the clock. “But my alarm <em>does</em> go off in seven minutes.”</p><p>She heard it as soon as she said it. Knew what she had set herself up for.</p><p>Not discouraged in the least, Margaery drifted lower, pushed her t-shirt up and expanded caresses over all of Sansa’s torso. Both hands fastened over her breasts while she drew her tongue over a toned stomach.</p><p>“I just need three to get you off.” She underlined her words with a kiss to the seam of her panties and caused Sansa to draw a shaky breath. “Five, tops.”</p><p>Fingers had already hooked into the sides of her panties; Margaery sucked her way along the skin she exposed.</p><p>“And what about yourself?” Sansa bit out, spreading her legs to give Margaery all the access she needed. The sensation of hot breath over her folds left her trembling.</p><p>“Don’t worry about me.”</p><p>Sansa moaned quietly when she saw the hand Margaery had slipped between her own legs.</p><p>Cat-like-eyes sparked up at her and she pressed a first kiss to her core. She drew back only an inch, licked her lips and she started working herself. She breathed in wanton. “In fact, I might get there before you do.”</p><p>Sansa fell back into the pillow with a breathy chuckle, and sunk into the feeling of a hot tongue savouring her. “Ever so efficient.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Week 19</strong>
</p><p>“That’s it. We are officially out of space.” Sansa closed the fridge and set a Tupperware container back on the kitchen counter. She looked at Margaery who was drying the counter with a dish towel. “Are you sure you don’t want any more dessert?”</p><p>“Don’t tempt me.”</p><p>“It would just go to waste otherwise.”</p><p>Margaery glared at her while folding up the towel. “When did I become the alternative to the garbage disposal?”</p><p>“It is your favourite.” Sansa peeled the lid off the container and nudged it towards her wife. “And you only had a tiny portion before.”</p><p>Seeing the way Margaery glanced at the neatly prepared chocolate souffles was enough for Sansa to know she had won this argument. Margaery was helpless against her baking skills.</p><p>“It’s like you want me to get even fatter.”</p><p>Sansa chuckled and smoothed a hand over her hip and pulled her close. “Only so much more of you to love. Besides-” she met her in a loving kiss, “I think it becomes you. I’ve always loved you curvy.”  </p><p>Margaery pouted even as she settled her arms around Sansa’s neck. “I’m already heavier than I was at nine months with Sofia.”</p><p>“At nine months with Sofia you looked like Kate Moss shoplifting a water melon.” Sansa placed a hand over her baby bump. “Besides you’re carrying two babies this time?”</p><p>“That’s barely two pounds at this point.” She pulled away, sighed as she took the Tupperware container and pointed a fork at Sansa. “The rest is entirely your fault.”</p><p>With a grin, Sansa pulled a container of whip cream from the fridge and with an arm around Margaery they made their way to the living room. “You caught me,” she said, kissing her shoulder. “I want you all fat and heavy so no one else will find you attractive and you won’t leave me.”</p><p>Margaery shot her a look. “You have me knocked up with kid three and kid four. Where am I supposed to go? Like anyone would want me anyway.”</p><p>“Then nothing is stopping you from getting fat.”</p><p>In the living room the girls had already spread out. Catie occupied the love-seat sideways, while Sofia scooted to the side on the large couch, making space for her mothers.</p><p>“What took you so long?” Catie asked, unconcealed accusation in her tone.</p><p>“Your lack of help,” Sansa said pointedly.</p><p>Catie rolled her eyes. “We took the trash out like you asked.”</p><p>“And I cleared the table,” Sofia added.</p><p>“And have not been seen since. You know it wouldn’t—”</p><p>“Can we not have this conversation again?” Margaery cut in with a soft smile, as she contentedly put a spoon full of whipped cream on top of her dessert. “Please?”</p><p>Sansa glanced at her in annoyance. “I appreciate that the hormones are making you soft, but could you at least <em>try</em> not undermine me?”</p><p>“I’m not undermining you,” her words came muffled with a mouthful of cake. “But it comes a little weak when we complain after we already did all the cleaning ourselves.” She licked some chocolate off the fork and looked between the girls. “Tomorrow you do the cleaning. No discussion, no whining.”</p><p>“Fine.” Exasperated Sofia cuddled up to Margaery and put a hand on top of her stomach. She probed for a while before inevitably scowling. It was her twentieth try today to feel the babies moving, but once more without success. “I don’t get it. They were all moving around and kicking in the ultrasound today.”</p><p>“Maybe they are sleeping?” Catie guessed, taking a hand full of popcorn.</p><p>“Definitely not sleeping,” Margaery weighed in, taking Sofia’s hand to a specific spot. “I am a little worried just how little those two seem to be sleeping.”</p><p>Sansa watched the whole ordeal softly smiling. “It’s probably too early.” She managed to keep her focus on the TV for only a few seconds before glancing back at Margaery. “How little sleeping are we talking?”</p><p>“Enough to have me reconsider breastfeeding.”</p><p>Sansa cringed. In their conversation on how they would manage with maternity leave, Margaery being dead-set on breastfeeding had been a major point of consideration. That she sounded somewhat serious now, was mildly concerning.</p><p>“Which would make sense, because then we could help you with late night feedings,” Sofia mused.</p><p>“We?” Catie interjected and held up two hands in defiance. “Nope. Sorry. You wanted more kids, you deal with it.” She threw a piece of popcorn at her sister. “Check with me before giving them ideas like that.”</p><p>“We are old enough to help, so why shouldn’t we?”</p><p>“Neither of you will do any late-night feedings,” Sansa stated firmly, getting a grip of Sofia’s hand before she could fire a chocolate chip back at Catie. “It will be enough for both of us to be dead tired in the foreseeable future.”</p><p>In fact, Margaery and Sansa had discussed at a length, that they would keep them as far as possible from any babysitting activities whatsoever.</p><p>It had been their decision to expand their family, Catie had made a point there. Taking care of their siblings should not be something that took over a majority of the girls' lives. It would be challenging enough to have their mothers’ attention deterred from them. And likewise, for them as parents to ensure the babies were taken care of along with keeping their daughters out of trouble.</p><p>“You know I read that breastfeeding can be considered controversial from a feminist point of view?” Catie remarked in passing as she zapped through the channels.</p><p>Margaery and Sansa shared a look. There was almost nothing that followed the words “I read” from their eldest that still surprised them, but every now and then, she managed. </p><p>“Is that so?” Margaery asked through a smile.</p><p>“Yeah,” Catie still wasn’t looking at them, but made best of her right to pick what they would watch tonight. “Something about how it requires time with, and access to the baby, makes it more compromising on the woman’s autonomy.”</p><p>“But that’s why you have babies isn’t it? To spend time with them?” Sofia asked frowning.</p><p>“You’re so naïve sometimes.” Catie rolled her eyes. “I literally can’t believe that I’m only five days older.”</p><p>“And you’re so edgy and mature,” Sofia returned to sticking her tongue out. “I for one could see myself being a stay-at-home mom. I can’t wait to have a baby of my own.”</p><p>A banter going on between the two girls was something an almost constant occurrence that Sansa had learned to block out as white noise for the bigger part. But that last statement had Sansa cough on her wine spritzer. “Like hell you can’t.”</p><p>“I don’t want to be a teenage mom,” she scoffed. “I’m not that-“ she sent a nasty look towards Catie “-naïve. But raising a big family like grandma Cat is something I could see for myself.”</p><p>In the last year there had been about four different future prospects she had seen for herself. At least that one wouldn’t cost them anything in exploring, or require driving her halfway through the city at the break of dawn. Furthermore, Sansa was fairly certain that with how much of a long-sleeper Sofia was, this particular plan would not survive two weeks of living in the same house with two infants.</p><p>“Anyways,” Margaery interjected with a soft smile, “personally I am less worried about my bodily autonomy rather than my ability to have caffeine.”</p><p>“Let’s see how the next months go,” Sansa said. “If they move now is not much of an indicator anyway. I barely felt Catie at all and she was—"</p><p>“Nothing short of a nightmare. Ruining every family photo. I know, I know.” Catie smirked. “You know that studies show that demanding babies can grow up to be super driven, highly successful adults?”</p><p>Margaery half scoffed, half laughed. “Then we have nothing to worry about with you two.”</p><p>“So, now we’re hoping for excessive crying?” Sansa questioned.</p><p>“If we ever want the house to ourselves—"</p><p>Sofia’s small shriek had them all jolt. “I felt something!”</p><p>Now also Catie seemed somewhat intrigued, scooted forward in her seat. “Really?”</p><p>Setting a second hand on Margaery’s stomach and Sofia nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Right here!”</p><p>Catie’s and Sofia’s hands came to a small struggle with Sofia’s in trying to feel something.</p><p>They sat there in silent anticipation for a good minute before Sansa felt the soft movement beneath her palm. The smiles that blossomed on the girl’s faces mirrored the one on her own.</p><p>Her eyes met Margaery’s and her smile grew even broader. She abandoned the touch to her stomach and cupped her cheeks instead to meet her in a short kiss.</p><p>“Our babies.”</p><p>“All four of them,” Margaery returned with a blissful look to the girls smiling at each other over her belly.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Week 23</strong>
</p><p>“What about Ruby?” </p><p>Margaery’s hand didn’t halt its running through Sansa’s hair. “Definite no. I once dated a Ruby.”</p><p>“That’s like the fifth name you have shot down with that reason.” She didn’t have to see her wife’s face to tell that she was rolling her eyes. </p><p>They were lying in bed, Sansa between her spread legs, her head propped on top of her stomach, hands tickling along the sides of it. They should have been long asleep, but the summer night was too hot for sleeping and in their post orgasmic bliss they had remained in this position and ended up with this conversation.</p><p>This particular way of lying together, going from shameless lust to this deep sense of intimacy was more comfortable than Margaery could put into words. Maybe it was the hormones -most likely it was the hormones- but lately she had been craving Sansa’s proximity like never before. And the same went for Sansa.</p><p>The translation from being a couple that yearned for each other, to parents who were beyond excited for their babies was a fluent one these days. Sometimes a little too fluent for Sansa’s taste. More than once Margaery had found her wandering hands slapped away and herself chided as a horndog.</p><p>Not that Sansa ever stood very consequent or long in her resistance. The sex was too good for that. And Sansa too understood that once the babies were born moments for just the two of them would become rare; they had to make the most of every minute together now.</p><p>They had their qualms and concerns about having twins, had head lots of long nights where they had discussed how to best manage all the changes that would bring along, but with each passing day, their worries ceased a little more. As a couple they had never been stronger, never been closer. Never crazier about each other.</p><p>“Besides,” Margaery continued through a sigh. “We are already swimming in girl names. We ought to come up with more boy names.”</p><p>Sansa pressed a kiss to her stomach. “You know there is a perfectly easy way to narrow it down.”</p><p>“No,” she refused, determined.</p><p>Now Sansa turned to look up, her chin resting on her bump. “It would just make things so much easier.”</p><p>“I don’t want to know.”</p><p>Sansa rolled her eyes. “Fine.”</p><p>“We could revisit the idea of having the girls pick the names,” she suggested, her fingertips teasing over the back of Sansa’s neck.</p><p>“Think of the drama that will create if we don’t like the names,” Sansa returned sighing. “Or worse, if we only like one name.”</p><p>“You’re right. Besides. Sofia in particular would probably have a harder time deciding than we do.” Margaery grinned. “Did she show you her latest nursery design ideas?”</p><p>Sansa nodded. “All six of them. I got the whole powerpoint presentation.” She let Margaery take her hand to a spot where one of the babies kicked. “I didn’t hate the one with the jungle design.”</p><p>“Well, I hope you are not too attached to it. She’s already working on her next ones.”</p><p>“I’ve been wondering about her,” Sansa voiced carefully. When Margaery looked at her in question she continued, “I mean, it’s great to see her so excited. And astonishing really that her interest in something lasts more than a fortnight, but… I don’t know, she is taking it a little far at times, isn’t she?”</p><p>“I’ve been asking myself the same thing,” Margaery agreed.</p><p>Sofia had always had an astonishing enthusiasm, but in the last weeks and in regard to the pregnancy and the babies it had increased tremendously. She wanted to know everything regarding Margaery’s pregnancy, was sulky for entire days when something did not involve her, came up with new ideas for the nursery, with all kinds of baby gadgets that would be helpful on a daily basis. She regularly delivered unprompted input in questions about how they would handle the new situation they would be facing… it was getting a bit too much. Catie was interested and excited as well. Every now and then, something baby related would pop up in her reading material, she’d ask questions, but all at a far more appropriate level.</p><p>“Do you think it might be a reaction to the change the twins will bring along?” Margaery knew she was bordering on layman psychology, but it was not an unreasonable conclusion. “Like, I don’t know, a way to make us aware she is still there and isn’t forgotten?”</p><p>“It might be,” Sansa agreed after a moment of contemplating. “She had you to herself for most of her life, and now does not only have to share you with Catie and I, plus two more siblings.”</p><p>“She does thrive on unrendered attention,” Margaery acknowledged.</p><p>“Wonder where she gets that from,” Sansa quipped.</p><p>Margaery pursed her lips in annoyance. “You know, it’s a good thing you won’t be able to blame me for anything the twins’ bad behaviours. At least genetically.”</p><p>Sansa laughed and kissed the top of her stomach, her hands cradling the sides of it. “You will have them inside you for nine months. That should be enough to pick up some of your bad traits.”</p><p>Margaery raised her eyebrows pointedly, while she found Sansa’s hands with her own and intertwined their fingers. “We could be adopting and you would find a way to blame whatever bad traits they have on me.”</p><p>“The same goes for all your good traits too though,” Sansa justified, and held her gaze. “Catie for example has copied your pouting to perfection, thinking it will get her a free pass to everything.”</p><p> “Are you saying it doesn’t?” Margaery looked at her wife with the most elaborate pout she could muster, a giggle winning her over when Sansa arched up and kissed it away.</p><p>Sansa settled next to her then, an arm slung around her, lips pressed to her shoulder. “Should we do something about Sofia? Talk to her?”</p><p>With a small effort Margaery turned on her side, facing Sansa. “I honestly don’t know. It’s not like she is doing anything wrong.”</p><p>“And not all is counterproductive,” Sansa pointed out. “The playlist with nursery songs she made is lovely.”</p><p>“And don’t forget that twin carrier she found. She got us a great deal.”</p><p>“So we’ll let it slide as long as it is to our benefit?” </p><p>Margaery chuckled. “I guess. Does that make us bad parents?”</p><p>Fingertips drew up and down her spine and let her cuddle closer to her wife. She tucked her head under her chin and closed her eyes, at last something like tiredness setting in.</p><p>“Pragmatic,” Sansa settled on. “We are about to be mothers of four. I think we need to focus on those things that actually pose a problem.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Week 26</strong>
</p><p>Margaery barely had the strength to hold herself upright. Her fingers twisted around the headboard, knuckles white as she made sounds that were barely human anymore.</p><p>For how reluctant Sansa had been to try this… fuck, she was not holding back now.</p><p>Fingers dug into her hip sharply, the rhythmical sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, another hand on her shoulder for leverage, pulling her into her thrusts at a relentless pace.</p><p>The way Sansa drove the strap in and out of her bordered on ruthless, and still, in a near out of body experience, Margaery heard herself begging for more. Deeper. Faster. She couldn’t get enough of it. Of the way Sansa took her, fucked her, was a high like she’d rarely been on before in her life.</p><p>It was hardly the first time that a night -the first one in weeks, they had to themselves- that had started out with such slow, almost lazy, love-making turned into more. Margaery’s libido hyped up on hormones, was a force of nature -Sansa’s words- but tonight in particular, she felt insatiable. Only now, with Sansa pounding into her, she slowly came into reach of what she craved. Being taken into absolute ecstasy, fucked into perfect satisfaction and exhaustion.</p><p>Sansa’s thrusts slowed marginally, when she leaned over her, soft breasts pressing into Margaery’s back. One hand came next to Margaery’s on the headboard, the other snuck around her, groped and massaged at full breasts, her teeth piercing teasingly at her neck.</p><p>“Are you enjoying yourself, Marg?” She panted, sucking at her skin, having found her balance going back to harder thrusts.</p><p>Margaery only managed an incomprehensible sound, pushing her hips back to get her deeper.</p><p>Sansa chuckled throatily. The hand that had been teasing her chest gliding lower over damp skin and drawing a few circles over her stomach. “You’re so sexy. So fucking beautiful.” The hand slipped lower and two fingers settled on her clit, drawing a breathless gasp from Margaery.</p><p>“Don’t –” protest at fingers that wandered back to her chest disappeared in a whiny moan at a particular hard thrust, “Please… Sansa…”</p><p>Fingers that pinched her nipple served as a rebuke, and thanks too increased sensitivity, as a small substitute.</p><p>Sansa kissed the back of neck and giggled at her shameless moan. “Since you’re asking so nicely.”</p><p>Without a warning Sansa pulled her into an upright position, the hand at her chest holding her pressed tightly against herself. Margaery’s finger wrapped around the arm around her, holding on for her dear life as the new position angled Sansa’s thrusts just in the right way. Her head fell back against her wife’s shoulder, her mouth open in hoarse moans.</p><p>Nimble fingers returned to her clit, and Margaery struggled for air. For what felt like an eternity Sansa kept her on the edge like this, teasing brief touches and slow, long thrusts that hit her g-spot with vicious precision.</p><p>Her orgasm came into reach only painstakingly slowly, but when it did it came with an intensity that in all their time and in all the things they had done together was unmatched. She forgot how to breath, was unable to make a sound, every muscle in her body strung to the breaking point while Sansa kept on thrusting slowly in and out of her, stroked her through it in lazy tight circles. She didn’t entirely stop even when Margaery was nothing more than a boneless panting mass, only held up by her arms embracing  her.</p><p>Margaery barely registered how Sansa carefully pulled out of her at last, let herself be guided back on top of beyond ruined sheets, and only ever so gradually came back to deliberate thoughts when Sansa planted the softest kiss to her lips.</p><p>Her attempt to form words still failed her, and she closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying just how deliciously heavy her entire body felt. When she opened them again Sansa smiled at her in a mix out of smugness and the tiniest hint of concern.</p><p>“This has to be the longest I’ve ever seen you silent, when not mad at me.” A hand caressed her belly and eyes didn’t leave her out of sight. “You’re magnificent.”</p><p>“Ditto,” Margaery croaked out and had to laugh a little at just how hoarse her voice was.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Week 30</strong>
</p><p>“Mama?”</p><p>Margaery looked up from the computer screen, caught by surprise to find Catie standing in the doorway to her office, her hand still raised from knocking on the open door.</p><p>She greeted her with a smile. “Catie, sweetie, now that’s a nice surprise.” A moment later she glanced at the clock displayed on her computer and she narrowed her eyes playfully suspicious. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?</p><p>Something about this unannounced arrival set her senses into alert. She took in her daughter’s appearance carefully, looked for signs of distress, but found no obvious ones. Catie looked perfectly composed, determined even.</p><p>Catie came to a stand on the other side of her desk. “PE was cancelled today.” Her hands flexed around the straps of her backpack. “And I was hoping to talk to you. Is now a bad time?”</p><p>“No, of course not.” The hint of anxiety wouldn’t loosen its grip on Margaery quite yet. “Is this a desk-talk, or a sit-in-the-kitchen-over-cookies-talk?”</p><p>Chewing on her lower lip Catie contemplated for a moment, glanced to the two-seater that stood to the right of Margaery’s desk. “Maybe a couch-talk?”</p><p>With a smile Margaery stood up and gestured to the couch. “As you wish. You know normally the couch is reserved for emotional clients needing comfort. I do not have to get the Kleenex box, do I?”</p><p>Catie smiled and sunk down a little tensely, set her backpack to the side. “I don’t think so.”</p><p>Margaery sat next to her and gave her an encouraging smile. “So, what was so important that it couldn’t wait until tonight?”</p><p>“It’s not that it couldn’t wait,” Catie clarified, her hands laced tightly into one another. “I just wanted a moment where I was sure neither mom nor Sofia would overhear us.”</p><p>“Our own little secret then?” Margaery joked. She really did try her best to keep the mood light, but Catie looked as earnest as she would at a funeral.</p><p>“Something like that. At least for now.” Her gaze dropped to her hands folded in her lap. She took a deep breath and then focused back on Margaery. “I want to meet my biological father.”</p><p>For a moment it was a small effort to keep her facial features from slipping. “Okay,” Margaery said slowly, compelling her mind to come up with the right thing to say. “Can I ask why?”</p><p>She chided herself for the question as soon as it left her lips. It was a stupid question, that held an accusatory undertone that she had not intended for or meant in the slightest.</p><p>She knew why, or at least thought she did. It was natural, wanting to know where you came from. Catie was a curious child, who read up on any question coming to her mind. Wanting to know more about her father, the other side of her gene-pool, was only a matter of time.</p><p>Catie did not appear to be irritated by the question, in fact, her answer sounded like that of someone who’d practiced for a job interview. “I have thought about it for a while now and I think I am old enough. I would like to get an impression of him myself, know what he is like. How he talks, how he looks, how he behaves. In what ways I am like him or unlike him.”</p><p>Margaery took her daughter in. She had listed it all off so very rationally, when this was -at least potentially- a highly emotional topic.</p><p>“What <em>do </em>you know about him?”</p><p>Margaery knew Sansa had sat Catie down a couple of years back, before they had come back into each other’s lives, and explained to her the circumstances in which she had parted ways with her father.</p><p>“I know his name is Harry Hardyng. He works as an investment banker. He is originally from the Vale and four year older than mom. They met when she was working as a temp in his company. They were dating for three months when she got pregnant and his reaction was -in her words- not what she had hoped for.”</p><p>That was putting it mildly. From what Margaery knew about the conversation he’d asked her to get an abortion. And when she had decided against that, he had broken up with her, told her something along the lines of she could ruin her life all she wanted, but he would not let her ruin his.</p><p>In Margaery’s eyes Sansa had been foolish to not squeeze every last penny of child support out of him. As a matter of fact, she had offered to take him to court herself, several times before and after Catie had been born. But Sansa had never wavered. If he didn’t want to be part of his daughter’s life, then he should not get the chance to change his mind later down the line just because he had paid some money.</p><p>Margaery nodded. “That is the gist of it.” She paused, unsure how to voice her main concern. “Catie, I think you are old enough to understand that in what Sansa told you about his reaction she was… he was...What I am trying to say is--”</p><p>Catie raised her chin. “You’re thinking that he does not want to meet me.”</p><p>“It’s a possibility,” Margaery returned softly.</p><p>“Do you know why?” She licked her lips. “I mean, why has he never had any interest in me?”</p><p>“I suppose you want a more eloquent answer than ‘because he is a miserable ass’.”</p><p>At the swear word a tiny smile appeared on Catie’s face. “Kinda.”</p><p>Margaery brushed a hand through her daughter’s neatly braided hair. “You know this is a conversation you should have with Sansa.”</p><p>Insistent blue eyes that looked way too much like Sansa’s fixated her. “But I’m asking you.”</p><p>With an increasing strain in her lower back, Margaery leaned back on the couch, rubbing a hand over her belly to gather her thoughts. “Sansa has not been exactly keen on talking about him with me either. I never met him. I am thinking that he was simply not ready to be a father. Or maybe didn’t want to be one at all. He didn’t love Sansa like she deserved it. And I don’t know if he would have loved you like you deserve it.”</p><p>“Did he ever meet me?”</p><p>“Not to my knowledge, no.”</p><p>They sat in silence for a short while.</p><p>Somewhere along the way the determination Catie had evinced coming here had evaporated and the appearance of the pert eleven-year-old mended into that of a child. With how mature she behaved all the time, it was sometimes easy to forget that she still was very much a little girl.</p><p>“Catie?” The girl met her eyes reluctantly. “If it’s really what you want, I’ll help you get in contact with him. And I will talk to Sansa and make her understand why this is important to you.”</p><p>“You will?” Catie perked up the tiniest bit.</p><p>Margaery nodded. “But there is something else that I need you to understand going into this.” She paused to make sure she had her daughter’s undivided attention. “Not knowing you will always be his loss. You are the most wonderful girl, Catie. He was an idiot for not wanting to know you. No one in their right mind should ever give up the chance to know you.” </p><p>Glassy blue eyes that looked just like Sansa’s peered up at her. “You did.” She swallowed audibly. “I mean… you left.”</p><p>For a moment Margaery was at a loss what to answer.</p><p>Catie squared her shoulders. “It’s just... you said that we both were your daughters. Before. You raised me for two years as your daughter. And then you left.”</p><p>It only slowly dawned on Margaery, that this entire thing did perhaps have more to do with her personally than she had thought. This was not as easy as blaming Harry Harding for being a sorry excuse of a man and father.</p><p>“Come here, sweetie.” Margaery held out an arm and was relieved when Catie nestled against her without reluctance.</p><p>Pressing a kiss to the crown of her daughter’s head she considered for a moment what to tell her. When the words left her mouth she couldn’t help but feel they sounded terribly weak, even when they were sincere. “It was the hardest decision I ever had to make.”</p><p>“Then why did you?”</p><p>Margaery skimmed her fingers through Catie’s hair. They had had this talk. They had explained to the girls why it hadn’t worked out, why Sansa and her had split and why they had made the decision to break off all contact.</p><p>“At the time I genuinely thought it was for your benefit. Your mom and I were in over our heads, we were fighting all the time and that was starting to affect you girls. We were both hurting, and because of that we weren’t the parents to you both deserved.”</p><p>“But you wanted to keep me?” She sounded years younger than she was in that moment. Or perhaps she sounded like a little girl for the first time in years.</p><p>“With all my heart,” Margaery promised and held her a little tighter.</p><p>“But not enough,” Catie concluded. “Because you love Sofia more. Because she is your real daughter.”</p><p>Gently Margaery took a hold of her daughter’s chin and raised it so she would meet her eyes. “I need you to listen very carefully now, okay?” She waited a moment. Catie held her gaze, despite tears hanging heavy in blue eyes and nodded slowly. “I love you. Not more, not less. I love you. You are my daughter and have a place in my heart that cannot be filled by anyone else.”</p><p>Going by the hesitant smile that fought its way to Catie’s lips her words had managed to get through to her, even when she was not entirely convinced.</p><p>“I’m sorry for leaving you,” Margaery continued, stroking over her cheek. She saved herself any more justifications. They didn’t matter right now; were not what Catie needed to hear.  She should have been there every day of Catie’s life, and she had not been there. “I hope one day you will be able to forgive me.”</p><p>Catie sunk back against her and for a while they just sat cuddled together in silence. It caught Margaery by surprise when Catie placed a hand on her stomach. </p><p>“I’m jealous sometimes. Of the twins,” she admitted quietly. “Not because I don’t want them, or because I don’t think I will love them.” She looked up insistently. “I will. I do.”</p><p>“But?”</p><p>Catie drew a shaky breath, played with the material of Margaery’s blouse. “I’m jealous that you and mom wanted them. Planned to have them.”</p><p>Margaery’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“What I said. You planned for them. Sat down and talked about having another baby. Even with Sofia, you made the decision to have her. Wanted to have her. And I’m … I was an accident.”</p><p>The words sat more wrong than any other of the misconceptions Catie had come up with.</p><p>To think that her smart, beautiful daughter regarded herself as less because of the circumstances of her conception was nothing short of awful.</p><p>No, it had not been ideal for Sansa. In the middle of her MA, without a father around, but Margaery knew for a fact that there had not been a second where Sansa had not looked forward to having Catie.</p><p>“Don’t ever say that again,” Margaery pleaded.</p><p>This time around Catie seemed rather detached about it, which suggested this was not a new thought, but something that had been brewing for longer. She shrugged. “I am though.”</p><p>Margaery gave her a nudge and pulled her with her into an upright position. “Catie. I think you are smart enough to understand the difference between not planned and not wanted.”</p><p>“I guess.”</p><p>“It’s a big difference,” Margaery emphasized.</p><p>Catie remained silent.</p><p>“Sansa and I didn’t plan on having two babies,” she went on. “Do you think we will love one of them less, because of it?”</p><p>Relief flooded her when that line of argumentation appeared to reach Catie at last. She pulled her daughter back against her, smiled when she cuddled into her hold and resumed brushing through her hair.</p><p>“I’m sorry for all this,” Catie said meekly.</p><p>Margaery pressed a kiss to her hairline. “I’m not. I’m glad we talked.”</p><p>“I didn’t mean to upset you. That can’t be good for the babies.”</p><p>She peeled Catie’s hand off her stomach and held it tightly. “You’re my baby too, sweetie, and if something is troubling you, I will always want to know about it.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Week 34</strong>
</p><p>“I can’t believe they took the Pasta Formaggino off the menu. I’ve been looking forward to that all week.” Margaery leaned back in the booth with a huff.</p><p>Sansa smiled softly at the way she sat there; arms crossed over her increasingly massive belly, the facial expression of a little child that didn’t get his favourite candy at the grocery store.</p><p>Leaning over, Sansa kissed pouting lips. “I’ll make you some tomorrow, deal?”</p><p>Something shifted in Margaery’s features, she pursed her lips and quirked her eyebrows. “You’re the best wife ever.” She brought their lips back together a little longer and more intensely than appropriate in public. “I’ll show you my appreciation later.”</p><p>Sofia’s voice had them break apart. “Can you at least try to keep your hormones under control while we’re in public? It’s bad enough you two are being disgusting all over the house.”</p><p>“Exactly,” Catie joined in right away. “Gods, aren’t you too big for … that stuff by now anyway.”</p><p>The smirk Margaery sent the girls as she rested her head on her shoulder let Sansa brace herself. “There is no thing as too big. In fact, when Sansa and I were pregnant at the same time—”</p><p>The girls did not let her get further than that. Sofia produced a disgusted groan and Catie closed her eyes and covered her ears.</p><p>“You’re horrible,” Sansa told Margaery, meeting her in another quick kiss.</p><p>Margaery’s smirk grew a little wider. “They make it so easy.” She reached across the table and pulled Catie’s hands off her ears. “I’m sorry,” she conceded. “We’ll behave I promise.” She caught the look Sansa shot her. “Fine. I’ll behave.”</p><p>Both Catie and Sofia leaned back in their side of the booth with exasperated sighs and shared a quick look before focusing back on their mothers.</p><p>“Okay, so what’s going on?” Catie blurted out.</p><p>Sansa sipped on her water, feigned incomprehension on her face. “What makes you think there is something going on?”</p><p>“Eh, I don’t know.” Sofia huffed. “You taking us to our favourite restaurant? On a school night?”</p><p>“Yeah, last time that happened you told us you wouldn’t take us on your honeymoon,” Catie added.</p><p>Sansa and Margaery smiled at each other and intwined their hands. To their credit, the girls had lasted the ride to the restaurant and the placing of orders before asking about the occasion for this.</p><p>“Fine,” Margaery surrendered through a smile. “You caught us. We have some news.”</p><p>“Question. We have a question,” Sansa interjected with a meaningful look first to her wife then to her daughters. “A proposal really.”</p><p>Catie stirred her lemonade with her straw and raised her eyebrows. “We aren’t getting any more siblings, are we?”</p><p>Sansa caught her wife’s sly smile too later to stop her.</p><p>“Well, in a way, yes,” Margaery answered vaguely. </p><p>“What does that mean? Mom will get pregnant next?” Catie looked less than thrilled at the perspective.</p><p>“No,” Sansa clarified with a chiding glance towards Margaery. “No more babies.”</p><p>“Are we getting a pet?” Sofia guessed with excitement.</p><p>“No pet either, no.” Sansa shook her head. “Gods, no.”</p><p>The chaos that two pre-teen daughters combined with infant twins would ensue was quite enough without a dog or cat running through the house.</p><p>Confused faces stared back at them for a moment, before Catie looked between them in horror. “Oh Gods, you want to adopt, don’t you?”</p><p>“Adoption is what we wanted to talk to you about,” Margaery confirmed.</p><p>Sansa suppressed a roll of her eyes at her wife’s antics. It was all fun and games until someone threw a tantrum. She would not put it behind their daughters to freak out on them in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Keeping them on the edge like that might have been amusing, but it could just as easily escalate in an unfavourable direction.</p><p>Eager to offer clarification Sansa spoke up. “Okay, before the suspense kills anyone, Margaery and I have been talking about adopting the both of you.”</p><p>“Us?”</p><p>The amused smile on Margaery’s face had merged into a softer one and she nodded. “Yes. Well, obviously not both of you.” She reached across the table and got a hold of Catie’s hand. “I would adopt Catie, and Sansa would adopt Sofia.”</p><p>“If that is something the both of you want too,” Sansa clarified, even when the way Sofia enthusiastically smiled left little doubt.</p><p>Catie smiled as well, but with a hint more nervousness. She gripped on to Margaery’s hand tightly. “Can you just do that? Like, how does it work?”</p><p>“It’s a bit of a bureaucratic effort,” Margaery conceded. “But it is very much possible.”</p><p>“If the two of you agree that is,” Sansa added, looking between their two girls who were -that had to be a first- stunned into silence. “We want you to see it as an offer. Not as an obligation.”</p><p>“Exactly,” Margaery nodded quickly. “If you both agree, that would make us very happy. But nothing will change if you don’t.”</p><p>Sansa nodded. “That’s right. No matter how you decide, it doesn’t change anything.”</p><p>“Then why do it at all?” Sofia asked. “If it doesn’t make a difference.”</p><p>Margaery smiled mildly. “It’s a little like getting married I suppose. I would not love Sansa any less if we weren’t married. But getting married, was a way of letting the world know that too.”</p><p>“And what about,” Catie looked down on her place mat uncomfortably, cleared her throat, “you know, Harry. Will he have to agree?”</p><p>“No,” Margaery assured, meeting Catie’s eyes encouragingly. “This is alone up to you.”</p><p>It had been one of the first things Sansa had inquired about. Having Catie’s relationship with her biological father explored in extensive court hearings was something that would have let Sansa reconsider the entire idea.</p><p>Especially after his letter from a fortnight ago.</p><p>It had been anything but easy for Sansa to sit down and write to him. Even twelve years later the pain he had caused her still sat deep. Only worse had been the nagging fear that he would cause Catie the same pain. It had taken all of Margaery’s persuasion, and several long conversations with Catie to convince her at last.</p><p>And then, as expected, the scumbag had rejected his daughter – again. He had offered excuses of how a meeting would make things more complicated than they needed to be, had said that he wouldn’t be what Catie expected him to be.</p><p>At least on that last part Sansa agreed with him.</p><p>Catie had taken it with composure and they had done their best to absorb the worst of the rejection. Especially Margaery, being on maternal leave, had taken the time to sit with her for long talks. How inseparable those two had grown over the past weeks, was perhaps the best thing to come from all this.</p><p>Along with having written proof that Harry had never had, or had any intention to have, a custodial relationship with Catie.</p><p>Compared to Sofia who appeared full of enthusiasm, Catie remained reluctant. “You guys are not doing this only because what happened, right? Because I told you, I’m fine.”</p><p>“Not only, no,” Margaery assured gently; not denying that it had been a factor in their decision. “Sansa and I talked about it at a length. It’s something we want with all our hearts.” She shared a quick smile with Sansa. “We think it’s long overdue actually.”</p><p>It was not even the first time the topic had come up between them. They had already talked about it when the girls had still been little. Back then, the struggle of juggling all that was going on in their lives had sidetracked them. Then before getting married they had discussed it again, and settled on the less complicated option of putting things in order in other legal options available.</p><p>“We don’t expect an answer from you tonight,” Sansa said. “There is no time limit here. You can tell us no, and still change your mind a year from now. Whatever you decide goes.”</p><p>In a small surprise, Catie spoke first, smiling genuine now. “I don’t have to think about it.” Her eyes darted to Margaery and her smile broadened. “I definitely want you as my mother. Officially and all.”</p><p>Sofia, who had been beaming ever since they brought the topic up, nodded eagerly and gained a hold of Sansa’s hand. “Same.” She drew up her eyebrows. “Actually, it’s a little ridiculous that you thought we would need time to think it over.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Week 37</strong>
</p><p>Margaery sat at the kitchen table and watched the girls silently slurping away at their tea and hot chocolate. She longed for a cup of something to drink and few bites to eat herself. She had not eaten since dinner last night and now was denied her one cup of coffee a day as well. Stupid planned c-section.</p><p>She glanced at her watch and tried to round up how many more hours she would have to go.</p><p>“Worried you will be late?” Catie asked from her left.</p><p>“What happens if you’re late?” Sofia wondered. “Will they make you come back another day?”</p><p>“We won’t be late,” Margaery returned and caught a glimpse of Sansa rushing through the hallway. “Actually, I think Sansa will make sure we are at least an hour early.”</p><p>“I heard that,” Sansa sounded from the hallway.</p><p>“I wasn’t whispering,” Margaery called back and watched for a moment how her wife rummaged through the packed clinic bag. “We went through the checklist twice Sansa. We have everything.”</p><p>“I just want to make sure.”</p><p>Margaery sighed through an adoring smile and focused back on her daughters. The girls were not unaffected by Sansa’s agitation, that was easy to see. Sofia chewed on her lower lip in between more-frequent sips from her cup. Catie she’d caught staring at her with worried eyes several times in the last thirty minutes.</p><p>Already last night during dinner something like anticipation had hung in the air, but this morning that had increased to palpable nervousness that seemed to infect everyone but Margaery herself.</p><p>Sansa came rushing into the room looking flustered, the jackets for all of them flung over one arm, the girl’s backpack in the other. “Okay, time to go.” Her eyes fell on Catie and Sofia who were still somewhere in the middle of their breakfast. “You guys aren’t done yet? Arya is coming any minute.”</p><p>“I still can’t believe you are making us go to school,” Catie pouted and leaned back with her cup in hand.</p><p>“Totally unfair,” Sofia agreed immediately.</p><p>“We’ve been through this,” Sansa said exasperated.</p><p>“But we won’t be able to concentrate on anything anyway,” Sofia tried again. “You might as well just write us a note and let us come with you.”</p><p>“You would be bored out of your mind,” Sansa insisted. “You wouldn’t be allowed in the OR and it would be hours before you even get to see the babies. I don’t want you sitting around in a waiting room the entire morning. Arya will pick you up and bring you to the hospital the second your last period is over.”</p><p>Two sour looking faces glared at Sansa in time with a ringing of the doorbell.</p><p>“Gods,” Sansa gave her daughters an urging look. “The one time in her life she is on time and you are not ready. Hurry, already.”</p><p>With that she was off to the front door, leaving Margaery to look at her daughters with a mild smile. “I think your mom is more excited than the rest of us put together.” Sansa wasn’t exactly to blame for that. The memory of Sofia’s birth, the emergency c-section and the complications were more vigilant in her mind than in that of Margaery. “It will ease her mind knowing you at school safe and taken care of.”</p><p> Sofia sighed dramatically. “It’s still unfair.”</p><p>Catie looked equally annoyed, slipping off her chair. “You will text though? And send pictures?”</p><p>“I promise.” She held her arms out and the girls were on either side of her a moment later. She pressed a kiss to both their cheeks and held them tightly to herself. “My big girls. I love you so much.”</p><p>Sofia was first to straighten her posture, but stayed closely pressed to her mother, a hand to Margaery’s belly. “I can’t wait to meet them.”</p><p>Margaery smiled and moved her daughter’s hand to a spot where a limb poked out. “I think they feel the same.”</p><p>Catie followed the movement as well and probed for the babies’ kicking, but kept her head resting on Margaery’s shoulder. “You will be okay, right?” </p><p>“Of course, sweetie,” she answered without missing a beat. Ever since their talk, and several ones after, Catie had become attached to her in the most adoring way; always looking out for her, always wanting confirmation that she was doing all right.</p><p>The flash of a camera drew her and the girl’s attention to Sansa and Arya lingering in the doorway, smiling down at them.</p><p>“You guys are like straight out of a yogurt commercial,” Arya commented. “It’s hard to be around you sometimes.”</p><p>“I think we are attractive enough to have our own tv show.” Sansa handed her phone to Arya, slipping behind Margaery and putting her arm around the three of them.</p><p>“Which genre?” Margaery asked, giving her most charming smile for the camera.</p><p>The flash went off three more times and gave Sansa a few seconds to consider. “Comedy with the occasional dramatic elements.”</p><p>“Sounds about right.” Arya handed the phone back to Sansa and turned to her nieces who were still cuddled to Margaery’s sides. “You two ready to go? If we leave now I could treat you to ice cream and get you to school just in time for second period.”</p><p>“Arya.” Sansa shot her sister a warning glance as she slipped into her jacket. The girls were at the receiving end of the same look a moment later, and without a word pulled away from Margaery at last, and went to put on their jackets.</p><p>“You’re no fun.” Arya rolled her eyes and then focused on Margaery. “She seems more tense than usual.”</p><p>Margaery shrugged. “I was told childbirth can have that effect.”</p><p>“And yet you’re sitting here like the most content Buddha statue.”</p><p>Margaery rubbed a hand over her stomach. “I’m growing two humans. I’m too tired to be stressed.”</p><p>Arya smiled a little. “That’s boys for you. Draining your energy from the very beginning.”</p><p>Margaery blinked up at Arya, the content smile slipping from her lips.</p><p>Arya realised her slip up in just about the same second the rest of them did and suddenly the entire room was dead silent.</p><p>Catie was first to break through it. “Boys?”</p><p>Arya had paled and looked between the two women and two girls in front of her. “Oh fuck.”</p><p>“I’m having boys?” Margaery exclaimed, cradling her belly.</p><p>“Damn it, Arya! I told you she doesn’t want to know!” Sansa’s hand gripped around the backrest of Margaery’s chair as she glared at her sister. “I cannot believe you!”</p><p>“I’m sorry. It slipped,” Arya gave back helplessly.</p><p>Margaery gaped at Sansa. “You knew?”</p><p>Sansa ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “It was not intentional, I promise. I got a glimpse on some of the doctor’s files a couple of months ago.”</p><p>“A couple of months?!” Margaery cried. “And you didn’t tell me? You should have told me!”</p><p>“Marg,” Sansa looked at her mildly patronising, like she always did when she felt ‘her hormonal side was taking over’. “You were dead-set on not wanting to know.”</p><p>“That was before I knew we were having two boys!” she shot back and pushed herself to her feet, dodging away Sansa’s hand that wanted to help her.</p><p>“You knew that there was always a fifty-fifty chance for boys, right?” Catie chimed in.</p><p>Margaery made it as far as the kitchen island before anxiety took her over fully. “Oh God, we know nothing about raising boys.”</p><p>Sansa appeared behind her and set her hands on her shoulders, brushed them down her arms. “We knew nothing about raising girls either.”</p><p>“Yeah, and look how well that turned out.”</p><p>“Excuse me?” Sofia called out.</p><p>“She didn’t mean it like that,” Sansa assured quickly. She kept on rubbing her hands up and down Margaery’s arms, kissing her shoulder. “Marg, today of all days we really need your blood pressure at a normal level.”</p><p>That let Margaery spin around. “Don’t you think I know that?”</p><p>Sansa stayed perfectly calm through all her unreasonableness and brushed a few curls behind her ears. “Okay, I want you to take a deep breath and tell me what you need.”</p><p>Margaery followed the demand as good as she could. The breathing was the easy part. Sorting the thoughts rushing through her head a whole other. She picked the first one that came to the forefront of her consciousness.</p><p>“I don’t like the boy names, we have,” Margaery declared, catching Sansa’s gentle eyes. “We need new names.”</p><p>“Okay. Done. We will pick new names.” Sansa smiled and brushed her hands over her cheek. “What else?”</p><p>She considered for a moment, and again picked the next best thing within reach in her mind. “I want to do some reading-“ Gods, how would she get any reading done <em>now</em>? “-on toxic masculinity and all that.”</p><p>Completely contrary to before, when Sansa had been the more agitated, she radiated perfect tranquillity now. “I’ll find some audio books for you.”</p><p>“I know the perfect book!” Catie offered up from the back.</p><p>“And circumcision,” Margaery blurted out. “Are we for or against that?”</p><p>Sansa chuckled softly, her look increasingly more amused than worried. “I honestly have no idea. I’ll gather some reading material on that as well. And we can ask the doctors.”</p><p>Margaery nodded slowly, her thoughts gradually slowing down a little bit, the worst of the clouds slowly lifting themselves. “And no gender stereotypical gifts,” she decided a little calmer. “I don’t want any blue onesies or stuff like that. We need to tell that to anyone who comes to visit.”</p><p>“And yet, we were dressed like pink cupcakes for most of our baby pictures,” came Sofia’s comment.</p><p>Sansa cupped her cheek. “We already told that to everyone before the baby shower.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Sansa smiled at her brightly.</p><p>Margaery’s hands went on top of her stomach, felt her babies, her <em>sons</em>, kicking and moving. “Twin boys,” she said and peered up at Sansa through a shake of her head. “What did we get ourselves into.”</p><p>Sansa’s hands joined hers and she leaned in for a quick kiss. “We’ll be fine.” She threw a look over her shoulder to the girls. “Can’t be worse than those two, right?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much fror reading! I hope you all enjoyed this and I managed to make-up for the major angst in my other stories. :)<br/>Would looove to hear what you think!</p><p>A fair warning here: Please consider wisely before asking for a sequel for this story. I have an idea in mind, but not a single one of you will like it, as it is dark and angsty as hell. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>